“To Baldwin,” said McCray. “Yes,” he went on wearily, “I’ll give it back to him.”
“To think of an old Has-been like me,” said Holman, “that hasn’t seen so much easy money in a coon’s age—and to go toting it around all day in his pocket! McCray, I’m afraid I’m getting too damned civic! I’ll be a reformer next, and back in politics!” He laughed again. “We’ll wait here a little. Baldwin’ll be along, and I’ll stay and see you safely through it.”
Baldwin was coming even then, and in a moment espied them there by the rail. He had recovered himself; the mask of years could not be lowered long; he came on leisurely, even pausing to light a cigarette. Holman hailed him:
“Lost out, didn’t you, George?”
“So it seems,” Baldwin replied. “When you do business on honor you must expect to be betrayed once in a while. It’s all in the game. But where do you come in, Jim—an old back number like you?”
“Does seem funny, doesn’t it? An old Has-been like me! Well, I saw a good thing coming off and I declared myself in. But McCray has a little business with you, and when you’re through with him, maybe I can make it plain to you.”
“Oh, I have no further business with Mr. McCray. I’m quite through with him.” And he turned his back deliberately on the young man.
McCray bit his lip, then remembered and became humble, and, putting forth his hand, said:
“Here—here’s your—money.”
Baldwin turned, took the money, thrust it carelessly into his pocket, and said: